Chapter 16: The Pit’s Wax
Heat Burns – Flesh Melts
By: Restrained4U
The pit thrummed, air thick with sweat and leather, red lights casting jagged shadows.
Marcus slumped in his gothic chair, jeans tight, rope scars red, boots rooted, crop across his lap, belt buckle glinting. Leo sat hunched, chaps rasping against his cage, eyes wild with twisted spark. Ryan leaned back, vest creased, cap low, tags still, leather pants scuffed. Jamie hunched forward, latex slick, breath ragged, boots scuffing.
Marcus grabbed the bag, smirk dark, shaking it once – clink sharp. “My turn – pit’s still hungry.” He pulled a black card, reading slow, “Strapped to the sling or bondage table – hot wax on your chest, tied down, all three pour it on.” He slapped it down – WAX’S CLAIM – eyes hardening. “Table it is – sling’s too soft.”
Leo grinned jagged. “Gonna melt you, chief.”
Ryan snorted. “Wax’ll scar – pour it good.”
Jamie straightened, latex creaking. “Pig-boy’s frying the king.”
Marcus stood, boots thudding, tossing the crop aside. “Set it up.” He strode to the bondage bed, climbing on, boots scuffing the leather, arms and legs spread. “Tie me tight.”
Leo and Ryan snapped cuffs on his wrists, locking them to the eyebolts – chains taut. Leo grabbed a rope coil from the wall, looping it around Marcus’s ankles, knotting them tight to the lower bolts, boots creaking against the strain. Jamie tightened the ankle ropes, latex squeaking. “Wax’ll bite deep.”
Marcus’s chest rose, glinting under the light.
Ryan grabbed a stack of candles – black, red, white – from the cabinet, tossing them on the counter with a clatter. “Light ‘em – burn him.”
Leo snatched a black candle, striking a match from the counter – flame flaring as wax pooled. “You built this – feel it,” he said, tilting it over Marcus’s left pec – a thin stream dripping, hissing sharp, red flaring. Marcus jolted, “Fuck – burns!” teeth gritting, nipple hardening.
Ryan lit a white candle, holding it steady ‘til wax brimmed. “Semper fi – take it,” he growled, tipping it slow – a thick wave spilling over Marcus’s right pec, searing wide, coating scars. Marcus bucked, screaming, “SHIT – TOO HOT!” chest heaving, jeans tenting, “Stop – ” cut off, sweat pouring.
Jamie struck a match, lighting a red candle, flame flickering. “King’s bacon,” he rasped. Leo smirked, “Drip it light – I hit harder.” Jamie snapped, “Fuck off – mine’ll sear,” tipping precise drops down Marcus’s sternum – sizzling, pooling. Marcus arched, “GODDAMN IT – FUCK YOU BOTH!” bursting out, dick throbbing.
Leo laughed. “Screaming already?” Ryan grunted, “Burns like a bitch.” Marcus gasped, glare wild, flexing – wax cracking – then snarled, “That all? Pit’s seen worse – untie me!” thrill lacing the edge, wax hardening – streaks, patches, dots over red welts.
Leo smirked as he unfastened Marcus’s wrist cuffs, his chaps rasping faintly against the table’s edge. “Still king?” he taunted, voice dripping with mockery, his hard-on straining painfully against the cage locked tight around him. Ryan, kneeling by the bondage bed, loosened the ankle ropes with a grunt, Marcus’s boots scuffing free against the leather surface, his own erection throbbing visibly beneath his scuffed leather pants. Jamie, his latex gleaming under the red lights, gripped Marcus’s arm and hauled him upright, the squeak of his outfit cutting through the pit’s heavy air, his bulge pulsing hard against the slick material. Marcus rose, his chest raw and crusted with hardened wax, red welts peeking through the flaking patches, his jeans stretched tight over a rigid hard-on earned through the ordeal.
The four of them trudged back to the table, boots and latex echoing in the dim, sweat-soaked space. Marcus led the way, his stride stiff but commanding, the outline of his arousal stark against the denim. Leo followed, his wild eyes glinting with twisted thrill, chaps brushing his thighs as his caged erection strained with every step, a frustrated edge to his gait. Ryan trailed with a slow, deliberate pace, vest creased, his hard-on pressing insistently against his leather pants. Jamie shuffled behind, breath still uneven, latex slick with perspiration, his throbbing bulge shifting with each move. They sank into their chairs – Marcus with a heavy slump, Leo with a restless lean, Ryan sprawling back, and Jamie hunching forward. Each grabbed a beer from the table’s center, the glass cool against their heated skin. Marcus took a long, slow swig, the cold liquid cutting through the heat still radiating from his chest, his arousal unyielding. Leo gulped his down fast, a bead of condensation rolling onto his knuckles as he shifted, cage biting into his straining hard-on. Ryan sipped steadily, cap shadowing his smirk, his erection a persistent ache in his tight pants. Jamie drank in short, ragged pulls, wiping his mouth with a trembling hand, his latex tenting with unrelieved tension.
Tossing the bag to Leo with a flick of his wrist, Marcus rasped, “Your turn, wave-boy – make it bleed.” He slumped deeper into his chair, fingers peeling wax flakes from his scarred chest, the red welts glaring beneath as he smirked at the satisfying crack of each piece breaking free, his hard-on still rigid beneath the denim. “Pit’s mine,” he growled, voice low and possessive, the air around them thick with defiance, lust, and lingering heat.
To be continued …
